


cocoon my heart and bring me calm

by BerryliciousCheerio



Series: pink lemonade [4]
Category: Power Rangers (2017)
Genre: Angst and Feels, F/F, HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!!, a brief appearance by Amanda and The Cheerleaders!, gay™, im a lil drunk!, its EMOTIONAL my dudes, its fun!, some cuddles!, some pain!, we get some character development!, we just take some shots!, we take shots at zordon!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2019-02-26 05:52:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13229376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BerryliciousCheerio/pseuds/BerryliciousCheerio
Summary: When Trini closes her eyes, she feels Kim’s arms around her, hears I’ve got you.or: the inevitable





	cocoon my heart and bring me calm

**Author's Note:**

> HAPPY NEW YEARS PALS!!!!!! i wanted this to be my last fic for 2017 but its my first fic for 2018 so thats just as good!!!!!!! 
> 
> this is a follow up to "heavy wings grow lighter", ft a reference to the events from "i want your hot love and emotion" and i would highly recommend reading the first and moderately recommend reading the second to know whats happening but Listen, you do you, i dont judge
> 
> furthermore, i will probably be revisting this particular iteration of our favorite gals in the future. technically everything i write for them (barring "drown with me") exists within one universe, just at different moments in time, so future prompts will probably find themselves tossed into this universe as well
> 
> and with that! i head to bed! have a wonderful first day of a new year my loves, it's been great spending time with you
> 
> content warning as follows: injuries, underage drinking, alcohol, vomiting, d-slur, suicidal ideation, seizures (a character has one + talk about it briefly), bullying, homophobia, brief violence (nowhere near canon typical levels)
> 
> disclaimed

 

 

 

Amanda corners her after school, in that small moment when Trini’s the last one to leave English and therefore the last in the hall, and Trini feels wildly naïve.  Like– of course this would happen.  Amanda’s too sure of herself to let anything go unfinished, probable death threats be damned.  Besides, she used to be Kim’s friend too, knows her well enough to know she’d never really follow through. 

“Your loser friends aren’t around now, huh?” Amanda taunts, grinning.  She steps closer, smiles wider when Trini takes a step back on instinct.  “Kimmy’s not going to bail you out of this one, dyke.”

Trini cocks her head, swallows bile.  “Don’t you have any other names to call me?  Shake it up a little.” 

“Must feel nice being on her good side.”  And, god, just like that, Amanda’s surging forward, grabbing Trini’s hair and slamming her head back against the locker.  One of the other girls flinches.  “How long do you think that’s going to last?” 

Squeezing her eyes shut, Trini tries to focus on the tangible: the cold metal through her shirt.  The buzz of the fluorescent lights above them.  The freaky sense of déjà vu she’s getting.  Anything but where her mind is trying to go, anything but Kim. 

“I didn’t get to see you cry last time,” Amanda says.  “It’s not going to be so easy for you this time.”

“Fuck you.”

The grip on her hair tightens.  “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”  Amanda moves quickly, brings her knee up into Trini’s stomach with a practiced ease.  “Little perv.  Aren’t you worried Kimmy’d get jealous?”

Maybe it’s how she keeps saying _Kimmy_ or maybe it’s how the other girls are just watching, fascinated, learning from the best.  Either way– Trini decides then and there to take the beating, swallow it all without another word.

Her mother did always say never to feed a bully.

And then– “Get the _fuck_ away from her.”

Amanda lets go of Trini’s hair, but doesn’t step away from her as she snaps her head to look at Kim, her snarl turning into a sickening grin.  “Hey Kimmy,” she taunts.  “You’re a little late to the party.”  She winks over her shoulder at Trini.  “Your girlfriend and I were just getting to know each other."

Trini closes her eyes to avoid seeing Kim’s face in the aftermath, reopens them when she senses a change, sees dark hair and a bright shirt and there’s a hand reaching back for her. 

Trini reaches out to take it, to feel Kim’s warmth, and–

**.**

**.**

**.**

_ding!_

 

Trini doesn’t mean to throw her phone through a wall, but– you know.  This is the tenth time she’s had this dream, fleshed out the idea of Kim coming to her rescue.  She hasn’t had a good night’s sleep in weeks.

When Trini drags herself out of bed to check her phone, she sees the text is from Kim, which, yeah, makes sense, but that’s sort of the problem.  It’s like she has a goddamn radar for her, but, they– uh.

They don’t talk about it– Trini’s labeled those few days as _The Locker Incident 2: More Locker_ and she’s filed them away with the growing pile of _Incidences_ that seem to crop up whenever she’s around Kim for too long. 

(A small sampling: _The Locker Incident 1_ , _The Krispy Kreme Incident_ , _That One Time Trini Nearly Died Watching Kimberly Hart Crush A Putty’s Head With Her Thighs_.  So on and so forth, etc., etc.  Whatever.)

But yeah, it’s an _Incident_ to her now.  She’s safely shoved it to the side of her mind; it’s never really gone from her periphery, but it’s at least not the only thing in her head anymore, since that was a problem that totally did not happen right after everything went down.  Trini totally didn’t spend way too many nights following everything with Kim’s face at the front of her mind.

It’s just– she was so _soft_ , so careful with Trini.  Kim cared for her and reached for her, held her tightly and didn’t bolt when Trini’s dumbass mouth got ahead of her mind, begging Kim to stay with her.  Her voice was on a loop those nights, all the different versions that have been burned into Trini’s brain; the gentle, concerned voice from the bathroom, from her bedroom.  The furious, protective one from her locker.  The honest one, stripped raw, held in the very deepest place in Trini for dark days.

That’s the one that gets to her most.  When Trini closes her eyes, she feels Kim’s arms around her, hears _I’ve got you_.  Sees her dark eyes boring into her and hears _You deserve so much better than this_.  Watches her in the weak morning light and hears _You’re more than worth it_.

She spends way too long on that one.  It’s kind of what precipitates the whole _shove this shit to the side_ thing, because whenever she thinks of it, her heart does this weird flutter thing and she wants to die a little?  Or do something really stupid, like telling Kim about how much she wants to kiss her.

It’s been a couple weeks now, a couple weeks where it felt like the entire team was sticking a little closer to Trini than normal.  Sometimes she would catch Jason lurking at the end of the hall during passing period trying to act all casual, or it would be Zack insisting that her next class was totally on the way to his so it only made sense for him to walk with her. 

Even Billy, who usually was the first to recognize when Trini started chafing at the attention; he found increasingly flimsy excuses for Trini to spend time at his house.  They ranged from _I need an extra set of hands for this part of my project_ (believable) to _my mom said she’d make empanadas_ (less believable and Trini was sure that Candace was probably confused as to why her son kept asking for empanadas for dinner).

It was sweet.  They all were and Trini– she knows she can be stupid sometimes, but she’s not stupid enough to refuse the care her friends were offering her.  They love her, she knows, so she takes it in stride; calls Jason the fuck out during passing only to convince him to give her a piggyback ride to study hall, trades dumbass jokes with Zack on the walk to class, eats dinner at the Cranstons’ at least twice a week.

That’s all pretty easy to swallow, mold herself around and accept as part of her routine.

Kim is less so. 

It starts with the locker sharing, which is fine in theory, on paper.  They already carpool most days anyway, so it actually works out kind of well.  And Trini’s happy about that!  She really is.  She always loves driving to school with Kim, likes how easily she’d smile those mornings, likes how Kim’d smile and laugh just as freely.  Getting a small extension on that time?  Even if it’s just the extra ten minutes, Trini cherishes it (yeah, okay, she knows that’s sappy.  Fuck _off_ ).

The mornings aren’t bad, because it’s the type of interaction Trini’s used to, knows she can handle.  She knows the hand brushing, the way Kim’s fingertips linger on Trini’s when she passes her coffee order over.  She’s well versed in the way Kim looks at her, across the center console and so soft, so warm.  She’s kind of, sort of, maybe gotten a little bit of a handle on the way her heart palpitates at those.

What she’s not used to are the afternoons; how Kim likes to lean up against the adjacent locker, waiting for Trini to finish swapping out her books, and how she looks at her then.  All unreadable, all mysterious _I’m a fuckboy in another life_.  All _I probably have no idea what I’m doing to your body right now…or do I?_

There’s also the _touching_.  That starts at the locker too.  Trini knows that Kim’s pretty tactile, is one of those girls that cuddles with her friends and drapes herself over whoever is closest.  Which is nice when Trini has at least three days to prep for it. 

It starts like this: the first day of sharing a locker, Trini somehow expected things to be totally normal, sort of.  She’d ridden to school with Kim and parted ways until lunch, where they joined the guys before splitting off again.  Everything was totally normal.

Then, when Trini was pulling her bio textbook out from under the little wire shelf Kim bought to make more space, someone touched her.  Lightly on her side, careful, accompanied by, “I thought we could walk to class together.”  And when she looked up, there was Kim, offering her that small, soft smile of hers. 

Trini honest to god couldn’t speak for a solid thirty seconds.  Hopefully she just looked stoic?  She really can’t remember much about the moments right after that, because at the time her mind was stuck on the warm pressure at her waist, on the quirk of Kim’s lips. 

 _Holy shit_ , you know? 

She eventually recovered, managed to keep her shit together through bio and training and even through the drive home afterschool.

The touching became more of an issue the longer it went on.

Which.  Uh.  Brings us to the movie thing. 

Alpha-5 really liked that the rangers were bonding and was more than understanding when Zack complained about how hard it was to find time to just be rangers together, outside of training or battle. 

If they hung out in town, they had to be on constant alert; if they hung out at someone’s home, there was always something they had to be on the lookout for– Trini’s mom made her house a no go, Jason’s little sister was usually around and that meant they needed to be halfway decent influences.  Zack’s place was too small for them all, plus no one wanted to disturb his mom too much.  Candace was lovely and so welcoming, but Billy was particular about his space and everyone respected that.  Kim’s place was normally the go to– her parents were usually out of town, but there was a lull in business (what business were they in?  The world– but mostly Trini– would probably never know, considering how little Kim talked about them) so they’d been home more and they were far stricter than anyone could have expected.

Which led to Alpha working with Billy to rig up a movie screening set up in the Ranger Roost.  Which led to Ranger Movie Nights.  Which led to Kim laying her head in Trini’s lap, or pulling her back to lean against her, or holding her hand, stroking her hair, or any of the million little things that Trini really almost died over.

Which, more importantly, led to last night; Zack’s mom had just come out of a downspin and he was understandably exhausted.  At some point, about five minutes into the movie, he passed out. 

Small problem: Trini had been a little late to movie night, and therefore hadn’t staked out a spot yet.  When she finally arrived, Zack had taken up most of the couch, Jason beside him, Billy nearby on his bean bag. 

Kim had built a small nest of pillows in the corner, which, being the wonderful friend she is, she immediately invited Trini to join her in. 

That was cool.  And then Kim tucked herself around Trini, something that managed to terrify her and completely soothe every ragged piece of her at the same time. 

Trini’s– uh.  Struggling.  To say the least.

On top of it all– the locker sharing, the touching– there’s the way Kim just keeps finding reasons to be near her.  Not always touching her, just _there_ , in her space, like she’s afraid to let Trini wander too far.

It’s not as awful as Trini would have thought.  Which is why it’s fucking weird. 

She’s had friends that are girls.  She’s had crushes on girls.  She’s had crushes on girls that were her friends.  This isn’t, like, _completely_ unfamiliar territory.  But there’s something that she likes to call The Kim Factor that makes this entirely new, and that’s, well, Kim.

Kim, who gets drunk and cries on Trini’s shoulder.  Kim, who likes watching Food Network because she likes to cook and makes it her personal mission to be as extra as possible when she does.  Kim, who still sometimes has that look in her eye that says that she’s picturing jumping off a cliff in an entirely human way.  Kim, who laughs at Trini’s shitty jokes and takes twelve first aid classes just to help patch them all up and slips cash into Zack’s backpack when he’s not looking because they all know it’s hard for him to afford his mom’s medications and keep the lights on.  

Kim is entirely unnerving, too electric, too vibrant to be real.  Trini’s– Trini’s _terrified_.  Of her.  Of losing her.  Of _having_ her and then fucking it all up somehow.  There’s so many ways everything can go wrong between them and, god, Trini knows them all by heart– some firsthand, some by educated guessing, but she knows them just the same.  God, she’s so scared.

The fear keeps her up at night, keeps her up tonight, staring at her phone.  She leaves it on the corner of her bed most nights, since she still hasn’t been able to replace all her furniture after Rita and her bed is closest to an outlet. 

Kim texted fifteen minutes ago and Trini’s trying to see if she can let it sit for an hour, see if she can deny herself a little taste of Kimberly Ann Hart for that long.

It’s an experiment and it’s failing, considering how she keeps opening her messages just to close out again.

Restless, she sits up in bed, shoves the covers off because it’s too hot, she’s too hot.  She wants space, wants safe distance between her and Kim until this blows over, until she can function like a normal person around her again.

How long that would take, she doesn’t know.  But it’s worth a shot, right?

Her phone buzzes again, then again, then insistently and– sure enough, Kim’s calling her.

“Hey,” she answers in a small voice, unable to resist the pull any longer.

 _“Are you okay?”_ Her voice is deep, sleepy.  Full and raspy and Trini shivers at it.  “ _You feel weird.  Panicky.”_

Well, that’s one take on it.

“ _– can come over, if you want?  My parents are gone again.”_

“Huh?”  Trini should really start tracking the beginnings of Kim’s sentences, considering the amount of times she’s found herself picking up in the middle of one and being caught off guard.

“ _I can pick you up if you don’t want to run here._ ”

“Kim, you really don’t–.”

Kim cuts her off.  “ _Trini.  Do you want to come over?_ ”

There’s something about how she phrases it, something about her voice that centers Trini, brings her back to what’s important.  Brings her back to how safe she feels around Kim, how calm.  Barring all else, all the warring feelings and anxieties, Kim is one of her favorite people to be around, is who she would call in the middle of a crisis, no hesitation.

She figures this might count as a crisis.

“Yeah,” Trini answers quietly.  “Are you good to drive?  It’s really late, Kim.”

“ _Don’t worry about it_ ,” Kim assures her.  “ _I’m good.  I’ll pull around back, yeah?_ ”

“Thank you.”

“ _Worth it_ ,” Kim murmurs, smile in her voice.  It’s been her catchphrase these last few weeks; a little reminder of everything both said and unsaid between them. 

Trini flushes at the phrase, tries to remember that Kim can’t see how her cheeks redden.  It’s fine, she’s cool.

Kim insists on staying on the phone until Trini’s in her passenger seat– “ _Insurance policy_ ,” she’d said.  “ _No backing out on girls’ night._ ” 

Trini packs her backpack quickly, grabs the softest flannel that maybe, just maybe, she knows Kim likes to steal from her.  She only just got it back last week, but it’s a sacrifice she’s willing to make.

“ _Here_.”  Kim yawns hard, jaw cracking. 

Trini smothers her smile, slides open her window.  Pauses briefly to listen for movement in her house– her mother, coming to check on her or one of her brothers, up to use their shared bathroom.

Even if her dad’s up, he usually goes to his office, tries to balance the family budget, find money for three kids to go to college.

Trini doesn’t like finding him after that, all bloodshot eyes, all hollowed out and horrified at how it just won’t _work_. 

She shakes the thought from her head, slips out her window.  Her landing is a little off, a little clumsy.  She fumbles the roll out of her crouch and onto her feet, stumbles a few steps, enough to warrant a worried “ _Oh!_ ” from Kim, who opens her door and starts to get out.  Trini waves her off, brushes the grass off her knees from where she landed. 

“Hey nerd,” Kim greets, her voice tinny in Trini’s phone and so full, real from just across the street.  “Ready for some face masks?”  She leans over when Trini rounds the car, shoves open the passenger door.  “You can’t accuse me of being a rude date,” she jokes at Trini’s raised eyebrow.

Something heavy and tense falls over them immediately, cloaking the night around them, muffling the sounds of the cicadas, the hum of Kim’s engine.  Kim’s got this look on her face like she thinks she’s ruined something, her eyes wide and her full lips parting slightly. 

There’s this tight feeling in Trini’s chest; part anger, part grief.  She hasn’t been able to joke like that around girls since she was small and no one’s joked like that around her since she came out the first time– even the schools she went to where she never actually came out, she thinks people could tell, could spot her baby gay tendencies from sixty paces.  It’s weird.  Trini feels like she’s mourning something, rejoicing something new at the same time. 

“I mean– ,” Kim starts, eyes wide.

“I’m ready to take incriminating photos of you in a face mask,” Trini covers, swallowing her feelings.  “But I am also ready for sleep.” 

Kim lets out a breath, tension draining from her shoulders.  “Right.  Sleep.”  She flips her lights back on.  “That can be arranged.”

They ride back in mostly silent companionship, Kim’s car playlist playing quietly in the background.  Every once in a while, Trini feels the other girl’s eyes on her, glancing over across the center console.  Her concern is sweet, warming, but even still, it’s a little suffocating. 

But that might just be Kim.  Trini always finds it a little hard to breathe around her.

The Hart house is dark, quiet.  The only lit window is Kim’s, in the back of the house near the woods, the light spilling onto the lawn below.  Trini’s spent more time here than at her own home in the last few weeks.

It doesn’t hurt quite as much as she really thought it would.  Being around Kim, being in her space so often, being so surrounded by her that it’s permeating her dreams.  Not even sexy dreams, though Trini’s had her fair share of those, had to work so hard to shove them to the back of her mind just to maintain the ability to talk to Kim. 

“C’mon.”  Kim turns the car off, the music and engine going silent.  “You look exhausted.”

Understatement of the year.  Trini nods numbly, pushes open the door and steps out.  She looks back as she closes the door, catches the second Kim stands, shakes out her hair, steals all Trini’s air. 

God, she’s a mess.

Kim catches her staring, throws her that smile that makes her weak.  She tousles her hair again, fingers gliding through dark locks.  Trini wonders what it might feel like to do that, to twist her fingers in Kim’s hair.  To pull her taught, hold her close. 

Something hot flares low in her belly.  Trini wants to drown in Kim and it’s becoming _such_ a problem.

She trails the other girl into the house, finds herself holding her breath once they’re inside.  Kim’s house has a small foyer, an awkward little hall that would probably be completely average in size if it were not cluttered with shoes, coats, and an end table piled with spare keys, mail that Kim’s in charge of bringing in when her parents are gone, and what Trini’s almost sure is three years’ worth of Kim’s report cards.

As it is, it leaves very little space for people entering.  When all the rangers come over, they usually come in through the garage or the kitchen, but Trini figures Kim probably had already locked up for the night.  Now, as Trini stands in the dark of the hall, she hears Kim lock the front door as well.

She closes her eyes, sucks in a deep breath.

There’s someone directly in front of her when she opens her eyes.  “Are you okay?” Kim whispers, her breath warm and sleep-sweet.  The faint light from the living room beyond them is reflected in her eyes, making her look alight, burning from the inside.  Her hand finds Trini’s hip and, _oh god_ , maybe it’s Trini that’s burning.  “You still feel weird.”

“Huh?”  Trini feels every point of contact between them, feels each of Kim’s fingertips hot through the fabric of her shorts.

Kim’s fingers tighten, twist in the hem of Trini’s shirt insistently.  “Your– your _aura_ still feels off.  Through the grid.” 

Trini shifts her weight.  Doesn’t move away.

“You’ve felt off for a while.”

She sucks in another breath. 

“Trin,” Kim breathes.  “Please.” 

And then there’s this moment, this beat where Trini is so sure of only one thing: that if Kim’s going to kiss her, she wants it to happen now.  Here.  In this quiet, private little corner of the house, the world, where it’s only them that exist.

Yeah.  Trini wants it to happen now.

The moment she fully realizes it, Trini’s body tenses, locks up.  Kim notices, because of course she notices, and she drops her hand away from Trini’s hip– god, can she tell how badly Trini wants to beg for her not to?  How desperately she wants to be close, wants to be consumed.  How she wants Kim to destroy her in the best possible way.

“I’m good,” she manages, her voice cracking, giving her away.  She clears her throat.  “I’m good.”

Trini feels, more than sees, Kim nod; she’s close enough that her hair, when it moves, brushes Trini’s face. 

“Okay,” Kim concedes.  She slips around Trini then, keeps a loose hold on her hand and guides her through the mostly darkened house, up the stairs to her softly lit room.  

A few months ago, Trini helped her remake her room, repayment for how Kim helped Trini fix her own in the wake of Rita.  Helped her move furniture around, take down old posters and put up new photos, string up a few strands of fairy lights.  She’s grown so comfortable in this space in the interval, knows it as well as she knows her own.  Where she needs to sidestep because Kim is stubbornly against using a laundry hamper, how to maneuver the tight space between Kim’s dresser and the edge of her desk.  It’s all so easy for her now.

The part that follows– that’s less easy.

Kim throws herself onto her bed, lands facedown.  “We can skip facemasks,” she mumbles, muffled by her pillow.  “Sleep sounds really good.”

That’s great, except Trini’s _awake_ now, her gaze skipping over Kim’s silhouette.  Too busy picturing how it would feel to press _there_ and squeeze _here_ and it’s– it’s turning into a problem.  Trini makes it a point to regret very little in her life, but she regrets so much when it comes to Kim; regrets saying things, regrets not saying more.  She regrets agreeing to come over the most right now.

Kim turns her head, offers Trini this smirk that screams _trouble_.  “Come on, nerd,” she laughs.  “I wanna turn out the light.”

There’s no hesitation when Trini finally crawls in beside her.  Kim rolls onto her side and opens her arms, hums contentedly when Trini curls up against her.

“Good?”

Trini presses herself closer; she read somewhere that heartbeats will sync up if they can feel each other.  She thinks she needs that now, thinks she needs the calm Kim seems to feel all the time or maybe she thinks that Kim should feel what she’s doing to Trini, how her heart races and palms sweat and stomach twists whenever she’s around, should feel the hot spike that just slays Trini every time Kim hits her with this one specific _look_.

“Mhm,” she manages instead of saying any of that.

Kim falls asleep quickly, her breathing deepening.  Trini brings a hand up to her neck, lets her fingertips trail over the other girl’s pulse point.  Feels it slow, even out.  Trini thinks that maybe it’s actually working, because soon she’s struggling to keep her eyes open.

 

 **. . .**  

 

Trini wakes up hot.  Not like _that_ , more like sweltering and sweaty and super not sexy.  There’s hair in her face and she feels heavy, almost enough to be uncomfortable, but not quite.  More comforting, at least right now.

When she opens her eyes, the entire world doesn’t make sense for a second before it snaps into focus.

Kim’s sprawled on top of her, their legs and fingers slotted together.  She’s snoring a little and it’s kind of ridiculous how soft Trini gets looking at her like this. 

She’s, like, heart wrenchingly beautiful.  Every day, all the ways.  Even like this, when her mouth is slack and her face is oily and there’s a tiny line of dried drool trailing from the corner of her lips. 

There’s something warm and unrelenting in the center of her chest, something that makes her mind go to stupid, saccharine thoughts.  She wants to stay here the entire day, wants to never leave the comforting weight of Kim on top of her, wants to feel this safe and grounded every day of her life.

Kim shifts, tucking her face against Trini’s collarbone and making this soft, sleepy noise that is so close to breaking Trini in half.

Some part of her knows she should get up, get out right now.  That she should leave Kim’s bed and spend the rest of her life trying to forget how comfortable she feels here.  That she should do what she always says she’s going to– put space between them and pray for some sort of relief from the constant, cutting knowledge that she would do anything Kim asked her to because–   

Because she loves her.

Some part of her is leaving her bed.  Another part is in awe at the realization that she’s in love with Kimberly Hart. 

It’s not like– Trini’s not so obtuse that she didn’t realize that her feelings went beyond a crush.  She knew from the moment she watched Kim square her shoulders that day at her locker; from the second she saw Kim’s expression drop, crack just a little, Trini knew that she was in deep for this girl.

But, uh.  Love is different.  Love is terrifying.  Love is what keeps her parents together, she thinks, keeps her dad from just walking out when her mother’s neuroticisms peak and make everyone miserable.  Love is– it’s too much.

She’s seventeen.  And yeah, she saves the world pretty regularly, but she’s a kid and she doesn’t know what to do with this– this _love_ she has, this thing that is as much a part of her as her mother tongue.  This thing that could ruin her and this family she fits into so easily.

It feels like too much, too big for this double bed.

“Hey,” Kim mumbles, her nose pressing into the hollow of Trini’s throat, lips to her clavicle.  “What’s happening?” 

“Hm?”  Her voice didn’t crack, did it? 

She makes _such_ a mistake in glancing at Kim.  Because, really, is it legal for Kim to still look like a Disney princess when she has bedhead?

She blinks up at Trini, her dark eyes a little unfocused even as she frowns up at her, worry clear even through her still sleep soft features.  “Dunno,” she yawns.  “You just feel weird again.  Woke me up.” 

Kim moves, like she’s about to roll off or sit up or something and– god.  Trini will never forgive herself for this, but– 

“’m good,” she says earnestly, shifting one arm to come and rest at Kim’s waist.  She keeps her touch light, searches for some sign of discomfort, disgust.  If anything, Kim actually relaxes at the contact, quits shifting and curls around Trini a bit more.  “I was just thinking,” Trini adds at Kim’s raised eyebrows.

The other girl watches her for another beat, another breath; the moment feels fragile, like anything Kim says can just shatter it so easily, like all the words Trini’s found are sitting right at the tip of her tongue, just waiting for an excuse to dive between them. 

And honestly, maybe Kim knows more than she lets on, because she studies Trini for several long moments before she lays her head back down. 

Trini stays tense longer– until Kim’s arm comes around her waist and she curls closer again, until her breathing evens out once more.  She’s waiting for– for _something_.  Something to break, something to fall away from beneath her body.  Something terrible to balance out how wonderful it feels to be here.

 _Something_ does happen, of course.

Just as Trini’s dozing off again, there’s a touch on her shoulder; it’s soft, careful.  Feather light and fleeting.  Feels an awful lot like lips on her skin.

 **/**  

There’s a drawer of Trini’s things at Kim’s, convenient for all the nights she ends up spontaneously staying over.  Especially convenient when they wake up a half hour after Kim’s alarm should have sounded and find they have roughly twenty minutes to get ready for detention.

The first time this happened, way back right after Rita happened and Trini could hardly stand to be in her own bedroom, she’d had to sprint home to dress.  Now, she rolls out of bed a few moments after Kim stumbles off to take a quick shower and shuffles to the dresser. 

She’s changed and partially through fixing her braids when Kim comes back, half dressed.  “You look cute,” she tells Trini.  She jabs her finger accusatorially.  “ _Not_ allowed this early in the morning, babes.”

“I’m a monster, I know,” Trini drawls in response, cheeks red and eyes closed as she finishes her braids by touch.  “How _do_ you manage to put up with my beauty?”

“Careful concentration.”  There’s something in her voice, maybe, some little catch that makes Trini open her eyes, look up.  Kim’s staring at her with this _look_ , this thing that screams _oh shit, I said too much._ Something like _oh god, please say you didn’t hear that._   Something close to what Trini thinks her face looks like constantly.  “Um.”  Kim clears her throat.  “You know.”

Unfortunately, Trini realizes Kim’s in only jeans and her bra at the same moment Kim steps forward, one hand in her hair and what is probably a fumbled apology on her lips. 

“Yeah!” Trini squeaks, turning away and pretending to need all her concentration to find her phone, tucked underneath her pillow– _not_ that there’s a pillow on Kim’s bed that’s considered Trini’s.

When she turns back, Kim’s got a shirt on, along with this look that makes Trini want to hide away forever.  She opens her mouth like she’s about to say something, about to force this thing into the open–

and then her alarm goes off again, telling them to leave now or risk extra detention days.

“We should talk about this,” Kim says once they’re buckled, once she’s pulling out of the driveway, taking them further from the warmth and quiet safety her house represents.

She’s not wrong.  Trini knows that much, at least, but she also knows that girls like Kim don’t fall for girls like Trini, if they like girls at all.  She knows that even if there’s something between them, even if it’s not just all in her head, it would never last, never see graduation.  Trini was not built for the long haul (and according to all two of her exes, she was hardly built for short term, either). 

Kim deserves better than that.

“Talk about what?” she manages, sullen. 

In the heavy silence of Kim’s car, Trini can’t help but wonder if this is all there is for them.

 **/**  

Jason notices first, the weird tension between Trini and Kim.  He outright stares when they arrive, they split off immediately rather than their favored move of finding a table at the back together.  Kim joins Zack at his table, a sour look on her face, and Trini heads for Billy, taking the empty seat beside him and pulling out a crossword to pass her time.

The first note hits Trini’s forehead.  The second she catches.

 _the Actual Fuck is happening,_ the first reads in Zack’s messy scrawl.  When she looks over, he’s looking between her and Kim and keeps waggling his eyebrows at her, like she should know what that means ( _okay_ , she knows she’s being purposely dense).

The second note is from Jason.

_you can talk to me abt whatever you know?_

And she does.  Know that, at least.  Jason’s taken well to the role of leader of the rangers, fully embraced the weird pseudo-older brother aspect of it as well, particularly when it comes to Trini.  And it’s not as if she thinks he doesn’t view them as equals, because she knows he does, she just also knows it different with everyone else.  Unique or whatever.  He takes care of her– not like Zack or Billy does, not like Kim does.

It’s nice. 

Which is why she’s never, _ever_ going to say anything about her feelings towards Kim to him.

Because, well, there’s the _Jason Factor_.

Trini has never made this public knowledge, kept it quiet because she guards every secret Kim trusts her enough to tell, but she knows about Jason and Kim.  Once, after a girls’ night that involved half a bottle of bourbon Kim snuck from her dad’s liquor cabinet, Kim told her about the kiss.  She didn’t give a timeline necessarily, but she cast this look at Trini and chugged the rest of the bottle, starting crying over how guilty she felt, so it was pretty easy to put together.

They would have had to have kissed the night Rita attacked.  Only that detail would have given Kim the sort of raging guilt that Trini’s come to recognize whenever she and Jason are in the same room, Kim’s brow furrowed, staring hard at the wall or the floor or wherever that’s not either of them. 

And there’s– okay.  She’s not super hype about the fact that they may or may not be a thing.  But, like, it’s more about how, if they are together, Kim hasn’t told her.  And she’s not obligated to, obviously, and Trini doesn’t feel entitled to the information.  But it’s– it’s weird, okay.  It’s weird and Trini doesn’t have the headspace to deal with it, to riddle through the mess in her head or the way her heart sort of stops every time Jason so much as looks at Kim or how there’s all these goddamn layers are shoved into every thought she has, how she feels like some sort of monster for the way her stomach flips when Zordon has the two of them pair off, leaving Trini off on the side.

It’s kind of too much for this morning.  Too much for how tired she is, for how clearly she remembers the warmth of Kim’s bed.

Trini does what she does best.  She stands abruptly, breathes through the ringing in her ears and the weight on her chest, and bails. 

She doesn’t run.  She walks quickly and with purpose, feels the entire classroom’s eyes on her as she bolts.

From behind her, a choked off gasp.  A stab to her quickly crumbling resolve.

Trini walks faster, scales the stairs two at a time and ignores the quiet murmurs from below.

**/**

_From: Little Boy Blue_  
_To: Trini_  
_12:30pm  
_ _Zack told Mr. Hargrove that you were feeling sick earlier, which is why you were late and why you left._

 _12:30pm  
_ _How are you?_

 _12:31pm  
_ _I have my mom’s van.  We can pick you up, if you’d like._

_From: UR PLATONIC SOULMATE_  
_To: FUCK YOU ZACK I CAN PLAY TOO_  
_12:37pm  
_ _hey t so uh evryones kinda freaked can u like just text me or billy back tht ur alive bc kim is.  Doubting it_

 _12:37pm  
_ _pls its like.  Terrifying when u drop off the face of the earth like this_

_From: Troy Bolton_  
_To: Trini Gomez_  
_12:37pm  
_ _hey idk what exactly is happening, but can u just confirm that ur not being murdered by a putty_

 _12:37pm  
_ _we’re all super worried about you T_

 _12:38pm  
_ _I don’t know if I’m making things better or worse, but please just text someone back_

 

 _From: Fighter Pilot Barbie_  
_To: T_  
_12:48pm  
_ _im sorry for what i said this morning_

 _12:48pm  
_ _i messed up trini.  please dont push us all away because i fucked up_

_12:55pm  
_ _you can’t just run away every time things get a little emotional_

 

 _From: Trini_  
_To: Little Boy Blue_  
_1:00pm  
_ _im alive_

Trini, from her spot on the roof, watches the rest of the rangers stream out of the school and hover near Billy’s car, all grouped around him, presumably reading and analyzing her answer. 

She types out a text to Kim seven times, deletes every single one.

Finally, she just texts Billy again.

 _From: Trini_  
_To: Little Boy Blue_  
_1:04pm  
_ _can you tell the others that i’ll be at training please_

 

 _From: Little Boy Blue_  
_To: Trini_  
_1:04pm  
_ _Yeah, of course._

Trini watches the boys pile into Billy’s van, Jason trusted in the driver’s seat again.  Kim hovers by the open window for a minute, hands on her hips before she nods and steps back for them to drive off.  She waits next to her own car for another ten minutes before she pulls out her phone again.

A moment later, Trini’s phone buzzes.

 _From: Fighter Pilot Barbie_  
_To: T_  
_1:23pm  
_ _i guess im not driving you to training_

 _1:23pm  
_ _i’ll see you at the mine_

**...**

Trini has one more secret.  One more thing she’ll never speak of, never tell.

She and Kim kissed. 

Once, when they were both pretty drunk.  The group had started to go to parties recently, moving as a pack, and this party in particular was bigger and noisier than most.  Billy got overstimulated soon after arriving and Jason had driven him home, promising to pick up anyone too drunk to drive themselves.  Zack had disappeared, goofy grin on his face after his pick-up line on the new girl, Tommy, had worked.

They were in the kitchen, matching shots while the party raged on around them.  Kim said something flirty-funny, giggled at how Trini blushed and choked on a laugh.  The entire room was hazy; Trini saw everything else through a filter, but not Kim.  Never Kim. 

She was clear, in focus and somehow, impossibly, within reach.

So.  She did.  Trini reached out, brushed back some of Kim’s hair out of her face.  And there was this breath they shared, this one shining moment that was almost better than what followed.

There was stillness and then there was motion. 

Kim slammed into Trini, crowded her up against the counter and brought their lips together roughly.  It was drunken and sloppy, finesse lost in their fervor for _more_ , hands gripping hips, clawing at shoulder blades.  Kim kept pressing into Trini, pushing her up until her ass was mostly on the countertop and it only took a little shift backwards to be fully seated.

Trini moaned, or maybe it was Kim.  They just kept _moving_ , pressing into each other, trying to get closer, somehow, someway.  Kim pulled Trini to the edge of the counter, right onto her thigh and Trini nearly screamed. 

“We– ,” Trini started, eyes rolling back.  “We need to–.”

She doesn’t know what she was going to say, doesn’t know what she thought they needed to do– stop, maybe.  Or find an empty bedroom.  It doesn’t matter now, didn’t matter then, especially not when they heard Zack yelling for them from the living room, his voice getting closer.  Not when, suddenly, they were painfully aware of what they were doing and were not quite drunk enough to not care.

They didn’t speak when they separated.  Kept quiet in the car with Kim in the front passenger seat, Trini in the back with a drunken Zack slumped onto her shoulder, studiously avoiding eye contact.

Trini spent the rest of the night restless, staring up at her ceiling and panicking until deciding to let Kim be the one to lead the conversation.  She was the one to start it– she was the one that got drunk the last time, started getting Trini’s hopes up only to forget or ignore it.  She could start it up again whenever she wanted and Trini was pretty sure Kim was aware of it.

The next day, at training, Kim greeted her like always.  Asked if she knew where her jacket was, because she couldn’t remember anything after nine pm.  Trini’s heart sank, but she wasn’t surprised.  Resigned is probably the best word for it.

Just add it to the list of times they _nearly_ addressed whatever it was between them.  Add it to the list of times Trini was a coward.

**...**

When Trini takes a blow to the head, she’s still feeling the ghost of Kim’s lips on her own.  Feels it still when she comes to with four concerned faces above her, one _alarmingly_ close. 

“What?” she slurs, trying to sit up.  “’m fine.” 

Kim presses down on her shoulders, makes her lay flat again.  “Trini–.”

“You just got knocked on your _ass_ , crazy girl!” Zack whisper-yells.  “That putty laid you _out_.”

“Yeah, Trini,” Jason huffs, dragging back a haggard looking Zack.  “You should stay down for a minute.  Catch your breath.”

“I’m _fine_ ,” she reasserts, glaring at Kim even as the other girl ignores her, starts checking her over for other injuries. 

Billy slips away for a moment, confers quietly with Alpha to one side.  Trini blinks, must keep her eyes closed longer than intended– she did _not_ pass out– because when she comes to, Kim’s _right there._

“…and the medical bay is set up again,” Trini hears Billy says, somewhere far away, even though when she tries to focus on him, he’s _maybe_ a few feet to the side.

Kim brushes back her hair from her eyes, grasps her chin to bring her attention back.  “Hey T,” she hums, frowning down at her.  “Do you hurt anywhere else?”

 _My heart_ , Trini thinks.  _Everywhere you’re touching me_.

Okay.  She might be fucked up.  This is too maudlin to be fine, right?

“Trini?”

She tries to put it into words, what the feeling in her body is (the physical, post-injury one, not the gay as hell one), but her tongue is lead, tastes it too, and her teeth are buzzing?  Somehow?  Her jaw clenches, tightens to the point of pain.  Kim, above her, looks terrified.

**/**

When she comes to again, she’s in the med bay.

“What the actual fuck?”  Her voice is rough, her jaw sore.  There’s movement out of the corner of her eye and when she turns her head, Jason’s there.

“ _Jesus_ ,” he breathes, jerking upright.  “Oh my god, Trini.”

“Jace,” she manages.  “What– ?”

“You had a seizure.”  Jason drags a hand through his hair, looks tired.  “Alpha thinks the putty hit caused a bleed on your brain and your healing didn’t have time to kick in.  You’re going to be fine,” he assures her, “you just need to take a day or two off to recover.”

Okay.  That makes sense.  But she– there’s no good way to put it.  She loves Jason, is grateful that he’s here, doing his weird Team Dad and Moral Support thing, but she, traitorously, wants–

“Kim’s arguing with Zordon,” Jason tells her, looking way too smug, too knowing.  “She’s livid.”

“Why?”  Trini tries to roll onto her side, grumbles only a little when Jason stops her with a gentle hand to her shoulder.  “S’not his fault I’m a dumbass.” 

“You try telling that to Kim.”  When Trini cocks her eyebrow (or tries to, at least), he adds, “She was terrified, Trini.  I don’t know– I think she just needed someone to blame.”

There’s a lot to unpack there, things that Trini doesn’t want to think about when she knows how this always goes between them.  Kim will be worried, hover closer, hold Trini’s hand in hers at every opportunity– all without talking about any of their close calls.  Without letting Trini worry about her just the same.

She doesn’t have time to ask Jason to hold off on texting Kim.  By the time she’s able to focus on him, he’s already slipping his phone back into his pocket.

He spots her staring, offers a sheepish smile.  “She made me promise to text as soon as you woke up,” he tells her.  “And, well, you know Kim.”

“I’m going to be sick.”  She says it without lead up or follow up, just leans over and barely grabs the sick bag kept next to the cot in time.  It feels a little overdramatic, but regardless of what she thinks, there’s a weight on the edge of the cot, cool hands on her forehead and then her neck, gently pulling her hair back. 

“This is super normal,” Kim says soothingly, though Trini’s not sure if it’s for her or just Kim herself.  “You’re going to be fine, sweetheart.”

The physicality and affection are doing absolutely nothing to help Trini get a handle on her shit, but they do calm her down, get her breathing to slow.  “’m sorry,” she whimpers, leaning back into Kim’s touch.  “’m–.” 

“No, Trini,” Kim murmurs, pressing her lips to the back of her neck.  “Not the time.”

The heaving subsides finally and Trini doesn’t push anything until after she’s rinsed her mouth with the water bottle Kim offers her, wiped her face with a damp paper towel.  Kim settles into the chair Jason seems to have vacated for her, pulls it up flush with the edge of the cot.

After several moments of silence, Trini asks, “How long was I out?”

“An hour,” Kim answers sourly.  “I can give you the minute count, too.”

“I’ll pass.”

A beat of silence.

“Kim, I–.”

“Now that–.”

They both stop short, stare at each other and Trini laughs uncomfortably.  “You first,” she tells the other girl, rolling onto her side to face Kim. 

“Uh, well,” Kim huffs, fidgeting.  “Now that you’re not vomiting.  Do you want to talk about this morning?”

And– god, what is she supposed to say?  _Sure, Kim, here’s the thing: I’m in love with you and it’s making me into a monster_.  Not exactly casual, hardly cool.

“If you don’t,” Kim continues, “I get it.  Today’s been kind of traumatic.  But we– uh.  We should soon.  It sort of feels like anything I say might send you running.”

And there it is, her in.  She could so easily say something– maybe not the exact truth, but something near it.  Close enough to make sense, close enough to count.

“I’m sorry about this morning,” Trini says instead, beating herself up for it already.  “I haven’t been sleeping well and I think it’s, like, starting to get to me or whatever.”

Kim stares at her, studies her.  For a brief moment, it’s like she doesn’t believe Trini, looks like she’s about to call her out.  For a brief moment, all Trini feels is relief.  Like, _jesus_ , she’d do anything for an excuse to get this off her chest.  She’s not a naturally brave person, at least not when it comes to taking a stand for herself and she knows that if it’s left to her, she’ll die before admitting anything.

But, god, if Kim calls her on her shit?  It’ll all come out, every messy thought, every saccharine daydream.  She hopes for and dreads the idea in equal measure.

But the world is not perfect and Kim, despite sometimes seeming like one, is not a mind reader.  She nods after a long moment of silence, reaches for Trini’s hand and squeezes.  “You can stay over again, if you want?” Kim offers.  “You seemed like you slept pretty well last night.”

And Trini’s weak, has known it since day one.  She’ll never really be able to separate herself from Kim because she’ll never really want to; she’ll gladly suffer the angst and the mind-numbing fear if it means she gets these quiet moments, where Kim’s hand is warm around hers and her eyes are on Trini, her whole, undivided attention centered solely on her.  Moments that make everything else sort of make sense, at least for a minute.  Just long enough to catch her breath. 

“Yeah,” Trini accepts.  “If that’s okay.”

**/**

The boys follow them back to Kim’s, Zack in the back because Billy gets motion sickness.  Jason pulls up alongside them when the road opens up into two lanes, paces them so that Zack can make ugly faces at Trini through the window.

Kim pulls ahead eventually, pulling in front of the van because when they get around the bend of the mountain pass, the boys tend to get lost. 

“How are you feeling?” she asks once the boys are out of sight.  The radio is playing softly, set to the alternative channel Trini likes to rib Kim about sometimes.  It’s the only thing that breaks the silence that follows her question.  “Trini,” Kim prods, her fingers flexing on the wheel.  “We don’t have to– I just–.”  She takes a deep breath.  When Trini glances over, Kim’s frowning at the road.  “How’s your head?” she finally asks.

“I’m fine.”  The waver in Trini’s voice, brought on by the splitting headache she’s been dealing with since they left the mine, gives her away.

Kim reaches over and turns the volume down until the generic disc jockey is barely audible, his voice just barely rising as he talks about a storm front rolling in.  “I’ve got Advil in my purse,” Kim tells her.  “Please take it.”

She reaches into the backseat when they hit the first red light in town, pulls her bag to rest on the center console.  Trini, knowing it’s useless to try and argue, takes it from her, starts to dig around.

Kim’s eyes are back on the road when Trini’s fingers brush something soft amidst all of the other girl’s assorted shit and loose pens.  She opens the mouth of the bag a little wider to spot it, finds herself a little short of breath when she does.

Months ago, Trini lost one of her favorite beanies.  She’d been a little sad, but beanies are replaceable and besides, it wasn’t long before Kim noticed and gifted her a new one for her birthday.   At least, that’s what Trini had thought then. 

The lost beanie is sitting in Kim’s bag.  Gray and as soft as Trini remembers it.  Holy _shit_.

“It might be in one of the outside pockets?” Kim suggest, glancing over.  Her voice throws Trini for a moment, reminds her that cinematic reveals aren’t something that can be pulled off around other people– people who will, apparently, notice when you freeze dramatically.

Trini swallows her shock quickly and snaps open the first outer pocket, finds a travel size bottle of Advil right there.  “Found it,” she says weakly, popping two and taking a swig from her water bottle.  “Thanks.”

They fall back into uncomfortable silence– they used to be few and far between with them, but the last few weeks have been a different beast, completely unfamiliar terrain to Trini.  Half the time, she was replaying their moment in her bedroom over and over; the other half, she was guiltily fantasizing about her best friend.

Even thinking about it now, Trini feels her face heat, blood rushing unbidden to her cheeks.

But, _god_.  Maybe?  Maybe this isn’t quite so one sided?  At least not how Trini first thought of her– not crush.  It’s bigger than a crush.  Her– her _thing_. 

There’d been a few things in the past, little things that did little more than stoke the flame higher, feed it until Trini felt she would be subsumed.  Kim’s lingering gaze when Trini forgot a shirt and ended up completing the day’s training in just her sports bra.  The way Kim’s eyes trip down to Trini’s lips sometimes, falling before snapping back up.  Her hand at the small of Trini’s back when they walk to class or on her hip in the quiet of Kim’s home.  Her lips on Trini’s shoulder.

And, most glaringly, her lips on Trini’s in that hazy kitchen.  Her fingers pressing into Trini’s sides, the way she sought out the exposed stretch of skin between Trini’s jeans and tank top.  The way they shared breath, how Kim gasped into Trini’s mouth when Trini’s hand landed on the small of her back, bared when Kim’s shirt rucked up.

Trini’d convinced herself that these were all slips, mistakes the universe made in an attempt to give Trini a little of what she’d missed out on all these years.  A reminder, maybe, of all that she couldn’t have.  Of course she wouldn’t be able to have friends without it getting fucked up somehow.  Of course she’d have to suffer for the sake of community.  Her family drilled it into her early– you sacrifice for family.  Trini’s hid part of herself for years in the name of this, to spare her parents the shame, the disappointment.  She’s been ignoring all these little things with Kim for the same reason. 

If she’d pursued it when she’d first noticed and been wrong– jesus, Trini can’t consider that.  She’d have ruined everything, she thinks.  Her fear wasn’t irrational, not really considering all the things she stood to lose, all the things she’d lost the last time she’d been so heady and sure of herself.  It wasn’t irrational.  Maybe just misplaced. 

She looks over at Kim now, studies how the lights from the newly lit streetlamps catch on her profile, making it all the more dramatic– lush lashes casting shadows across high cheekbones, her eyes even darker here.  She’s beautiful and Trini aches. 

For once, she entertains the idea that maybe Kim looks at her and feels the same.

If she were bold like Zack, reckless like Jason, brave like Billy– if she were anything but a coward, she’d say something now.  Tell Kim to keep driving until they were far outside this shitty town, until they were somewhere Trini could feel safe enough to reach across the space between them, close the distance.

She is a coward, though.  They pull into Kim’s driveway without a word.  The boys pull in beside them moments later, just as Trini’s struggling to focus on her seat buckle enough to undo it.

“Can I?” Kim asks.  When Trini turns to look at her, she nods at the buckle, at Trini’s shaking hands.  “Not that I don’t think you’re entirely capable of undoing it yourself,” she adds, teasing. 

“Uh– ,” Trini starts, startled after being drawn out of her own head so abruptly.  “Yeah.  Thanks.”

Kim makes quick work of it, her hand brushing Trini’s hip as she pulls back.  Trini tries to hide how her breath catches.

The other girl must hear her– she always does.  Her eyes snap up to Trini’s, brows furrowed and, _god_ , it’s this look she gets when she’s about to put something together, this look that sends Trini’s heart racing, summons up this primal urge to fucking _bolt_. 

Someone taps Trini’s window, startling them both.  Zack’s got this annoying ass grin on his face when Trini turns, his eyebrows inching towards his hairline the longer they stay in the car, the longer Trini stares at him, dumbfounded.

“Kimberly,” he says, muffled by the pane of glass between them.  “We can’t find the key, so get your ass out of the car.”

Jason, behind him, shoves his shoulder.

“Please,” Zack tacks on.  “Please get your ass out of the car and let us into your home.  Billy says it’s going to rain.”

**/**

When they get into Kim’s house, Billy rattles off a list of instructions and restrictions for Trini and her concussion, the first being limiting screen time.

“You’re going to heal faster than this timeline suggests,” he says, moving his phone so Kim can read the rest of the list over his shoulder.  “But until your headache goes away, I think it would be safer to treat you like an injured civilian.  Especially after your seizure.”

There’s no use in arguing– she might have tried if it were Kim, definitely would have if it were Zack or Jason.  But there’s no fighting it with Billy.  He’s their heart and Trini knows better than to push him or his care away.

She relinquishes her phone to Billy after he promises to let her know if any important notifications come in.  Jason and Zack, already settled in the living room, are arguing over which movie to watch.

“You need to rest,” Kim says, suddenly very near, her breath warm against Trini’s skin as she steps around her.  “Eyes off the screen.” 

“I can’t sleep,” Trini says, even when she means _I’m not supposed to sleep on a concussion._   This cuts a little deeper, swings a little closer to the truth than she’d like. 

Kim reaches out slowly, tentatively, gives her hand a reassuring squeeze.  “I’ve got you,” she promises quietly, turning Trini inside out, keeping her silent for fear of screaming if she opens her mouth.

They have a normal arrangement when hanging out outside of the Ranger Roost– Zack, all long limbs and restless energy, usually stretches out on the floor in front of Billy and Jason, seated together or near to each other.  Kim almost always finds herself the coziest spot in whatever place they were and pulls Trini along.

There’s a little hesitation now, though.  The guys have settled in; Jason and Billy on the loveseat, knees a hairsbreadth apart and Zack sprawled in the space that Kim’s coffee table usually sits.  That leaves the couch and an armchair to the girls.

Kim doesn’t look at her as she steps towards the chair, her posture perfect, the line of her shoulders straight.  Trini spares a look at her boys paying no attention to the two at the back of the room and– 

she did say she wants to be braver.

Trini catches Kim’s hand and feels the little jolt, how Kim startles at the action.  Trini rarely seeks out contact, though she’s almost always more than happy to receive it, regardless of how flustered she gets when she does.  But this feels like it’s more important, like it deserves more attention than it seems on the surface.  Like that if Trini doesn’t reach out, something between them will shift.

There’s no resistance when Trini pulls Kim to the couch with her, and by the time they’re seated, Kim’s gotten over whatever momentary shock she may have felt.  They start with a respectable distance between them, but Kim is magnetic and by the time the DVD menu has appeared, Trini’s laying down, her head in Kim’s lap.

“Eyes closed,” Kim orders, but her voice remains gentle.  She starts to comb through Trini’s free hair, working out tangles as she goes, working her magic.  “Can I take out your braids?”

“Mhm,” Trini hums.  She’s drowsy already, her anxiety and her sleep deprivation at odds with each other as she struggles to put her worry to words.

But Kim– Kim always knows.  “I’ll wake you in an hour,” she tells Trini, promise held sacred in the smooth of her hands over Trini’s hair. 

The movie is playing softly, audible over the rain that, as predicated, started soon after they got in the house, but Trini is only peripherally aware of it.  She dozes as Kim carefully undoes her braids, blunt nails scratching Trini’s scalp as she shakes out the waves.  Zack and Billy are trading trivia about the movie, supporting vocals, Jason’s rumble of a laugh serving the bass line.  Percussion– the rain against the window.  Kim’s breathing as main vocals, singing Trini to sleep.

**/**

She wakes an hour later, Kim’s thumb brushing alone her cheek.  “Trini,” Kim whispers.  “Look at me for a sec?”

Turning onto her back, Trini blinks sleepily, her eyelids heavy and gritty.  “’m awake,” she grumbles, squinting up at Kim.  “I need to take out my contacts." 

The hand in Trini’s hair doesn’t stop moving as Kim asks, “Do you want to now?  Or in an hour?”

The pull of sleep is a siren call, Trini’s lids already drooping closed again.  She shakes it off.  “Now,” she slurs.  “Do I have to get up?”

Kim looks around briefly before she reaches over the arm of the couch, stretching over Trini in the process.  Even half asleep, Trini’s face flushes.

“Here,” Kim offers, setting the small wastebasket just to Trini’s right.  “Pop ‘em and drop ‘em.”

“You’re so weird,” Trini yawns.  Kim just smiles at her, soft in the dim lighting of the room, the blue light of the television doing weird things to Trini’s vision, her mind– this feels domestic, steady.  Gets her thinking dangerous things, like how maybe she could see this version of Kim every day for the rest of her life and never get tired of it, of her.

The moment’s spell is broken, or maybe just altered when Kim’s eyes return to the movie.  Trini removes her contacts quickly, trashes them before she rolls back onto her side.  Her head isn’t aching anymore, hardly even throbs as she moves, and she knows she’d be safe if she were to sit up and watch the movie with the rest of her friends.

But Kim’s rhythmic in her movements, pausing to smooth her fingers over Trini’s baby hairs, and she doesn’t want to leave this bubble she’s in.  She can see her boys, near her and safe.  Kim’s heart beat pulses steadily in her ear, rattling her bones.  Trini’s asleep before she can consider any downsides.

**/**

She wakes again at Kim’s insistence; Billy comes over then, shining a penlight in her eyes.

“Your pupils are contracting and reactive,” he says.  Trini wonders if Kim convinced him to attend a few first aid classes or if he did the reading himself.  “I think you’re in the end stages of healing.  You shouldn’t have any symptoms in an hour or so.”

Over his shoulder, the credits are rolling across the TV screen.  Jason is helping Zack off the floor.  Billy follows her line of sight, looking back and explaining, “Jason’s driving us home before the storm gets any worse.”

Trini nods, her eyes slipping shut again.

“Are you good to drive her home?” she hears Jason ask Kim, his voice across the room and moving closer.  Probably heading for hall, where they dumped all their shit when they came in.

Kim shifts a little, moving slowly in an obvious attempt to let Trini relax, stay where she is.  “Trini’s staying over,” she answers.  “We’re good, Jace.”

**/**

The rain is louder the next time Trini wakes, what sounds like Food Network on the television.  Her headache is nonexistent, her sore muscles loosening.  Her bruises will be fading by now, she’s sure. 

Kim’s fingers have trailed down to her shoulder, tracing out designs rather than combing through her hair.  “What do you want for dinner?” she asks without stilling in her movements.

Trini blinks in surprise.  “How’d you know I was awake?”

“Ranger intuition.  And your breathing changes.”  Kim slips her hand onto Trini’s back, helps her sit.  “If we order pizza now, I can probably pick it up and get back before the storm is really bad.”

“Pizza’s good,” Trini says, stretching her legs out. 

Reaching for her phone, Kim offers, “You can borrow pajamas.” 

There’s this dopey as smile pasted on Trini face when she stands and heads for the stairs.  She has a few pairs of her own pajamas here too, in her drawer, but that’s only a recent development– Kim still offers her own first.

**/**

_From: T_  
_To: Fighter Pilot Barbie_  
_7:28pm  
_ _where is the hart fam lantern stash_

_From: Fighter Pilot Barbie_  
_To: T_  
_7:28pm  
_ _are the lights flickering or some shit_

_From: T_  
_To: Fighter Pilot Barbie_  
_7:28pm  
_ _ye_

_From: Fighter Pilot Barbie_  
_To: T_  
_7:29pm  
_ _theres some in the hall closet and a few more in the shed_

_From: Fighter Pilot Barbie_  
_To: T_  
_7:29pm  
_ _dunno abt battery status so there’s also candles and lighters in my room_

 _7:29pm  
_ _lights just went out in town.  if i play my cards right we might get dinner for freeeeee_

_From: T_  
_To: Fighter Pilot Barbie_  
_7:30pm  
_ _play fair kimberly_

**/**

It’s two am and they got into Kim’s parents’ wine around eleven.  Trini’s not drunk and she’s sure Kim’s not either, but they’re not admitting to it, letting the excuse of liquor smooth over the edges of the space between them.

“Anyway,” Kim sighs, wrapping up a very long rant about the newest Star Wars movie.  “White men should have to take a mandatory ten-year leave from the entertainment industry.”

Trini rolls onto her side and props her head up on her hand.  “Firstly, I agree.  But is now the time to tell you I’ve never seen a star war in my entire life?”

Cue the scandalized gasp from Kimberly Hart– it’s really the best reaction Trini could have asked for, all eyes thrown wide and a hint of a smile playing at the corners of Kim’s lips.  Trini’s spent more time than she’s willing to admit doing everything in her power to coax similar responses. 

How many study session had she wasted just trying to get Kim to laugh?  How many sleepover turned into endurance runs, Trini coming up with more and more ridiculous stories from her childhood just to get that shock and awe, quiet amusement?

Jesus christ, she’s getting sappy.

Trini realizes she’s staring, realizes her proximity to Kim and she bails, rolls onto her back, away for air. 

“Trini?”

_Don’t look back, don’t look back, don’t back–_

“Hm?”  Trini’s voice is strained when she glances back at Kim, high and uneven and, _god_ , it has to be giving her away, right?

Kim’s brows are furrowed, her eyes narrowed again.  Trini’s got this sickening feeling like she’s right on the verge of something, like she’s just realized all she has to do is push a little harder and Trini will fall apart.  Kim cares deeply for her friends, Trini knows, but she also loves to figure things out, finish the puzzle.  And, sometimes, Trini thinks that Kim struggles finding the balance between the two.

Maybe that’s part of the problem, too– Trini trusts Kim implicitly, one hundred percent, no question about it.  But she trusts the Kim she knows and she didn’t know Kim up until the beginning of the school year, only saw her running with her old pack, only saw the damage her group inflicted on others.  And Trini was always the underdog, always small enough to fit in lockers and trashcans growing up– it’s not in her nature to trust popular kids with smiles sharks would envy, tears only alligators could dream of.  Maybe some part of Trini is still scared that they’re not meant to coexist. 

But Kim takes her hand, gently, holds it carefully and with reverence.  Maybe their old selves could never do this, never exist like this, together.  Trini can’t hold Kim’s past against her, can’t reconcile that bone-deep fear with the soft way Kim’s looking at her right now.

“Trini,” the other girl repeats.  “Truth?”

What choice does she have when Kim says her name like that?  Trini nods, acquiesces.

That’s another new thing, too, a code word arranged in the last few weeks.  Kim knows most of Trini’s secrets now, knows how she handles issues on the regular and one night she asked to be let in and– god.  Trini’s the worst at saying no to her. 

Now, they have _truth_.  No judgement safe-zone where everything’s on the table.  What they say can’t leave the room, whatever they admit to can’t change the outside world, barring concerns for physical safety.  Kim had tacked that amendment on there at the last second and Trini knows it’s just so she can fight Amanda if she goes after Trini directly again.  The rest of the rules were Trini’s requirements; she knows herself well enough to know that if she’s not given a free pass on consequences, she won’t say anything to anyone.  Won’t share any burden, will shoulder it herself.

But Atlas stumbles, sometimes.  Especially under the weight of a secret like this.

Trini knows what Kim’s going to ask before she opens her mouth again.  Not the exact words, maybe, but she knows.  Feels it in the tense of her muscles, the pitch of her breath.  Ranger intuition or some shit.

“Can I kiss you?”

Trini can say no.  It’ll violate the main rule of truth by, well, not being truthful, but she knows that Kim will never revisit the subject.  They’ll live how they’ve always lived, this path unexplored and hanging heavy between them.  It could be normal.

But Trini is not a cheater.  Just cautious.

“Do you remember the parties?” she counters, rolling to face Kim again.  They feel like they’re the only people that exist when they’re this close, when they’re sharing breaths.  It feels safer, somehow, and so much more dangerous.

Trini’s about to clarify, about to accept that maybe Kim genuinely doesn’t remember anything from those nights, but then– 

“I played dumb,” Kim answers quietly, “because I thought that’s what was best for you.  I figured you’d say something first if you– if we–.”  She lets out a breath, deflates, her eyes dropping from Trini’s to their linked hands.  “I never said anything because I was scared I would hurt you.”

Not good enough.  Trini needs to be sure.  “How?” she presses.

“You have so much shit to deal with already,” Kim says.  “And I– uh.  _Shit_.”  She bites her lip, hard, and Trini almost retracts the question.  “My therapist says that I self-sabotage because I don’t think I deserve good things.”  Her voice is raw, stripped down.  She sounds like she did in Trini’s bedroom all those weeks ago.  “And– _god_ , Trini, you are the best thing in my life and I was terrified that I would hurt you to hurt myself because,” she laughs bitterly, “I’m selfish like that.”

 _Shit_.  Trini knew a little of this, knew Kim had, on more than one occasion, considered ending it, used physical pain to detract from what was happening in her head.  She was the one that had, months ago, quietly suggested that maybe Kim was depressed.  But Trini, maybe naively, never considered this, never expected the depths of Kim’s self-loathing.

“So you fuck up,” she says, struggling to find the right words.  She has to get this right, though.  It’s too important to not.  “So do I.  So does Jason and Zack and Billy.  Zordon fucks up a _lot_.”  Her quip earns a quiet laugh, short-lived as it may be.   “But you take care of all of us,” Trini continues, “even though that’s not your job.  You have put all of our well beings ahead of your own.  I’ve–.”  Her voice breaks.  She clears her throat.  “I’ve never really had that.  And you make it look _easy_ , which is the wildest part.”

“Trini, I’m not–.”

“I don’t– you’re better at choosing your words,” Trini tells her, a twinge of guilt in the pit of her stomach for cutting Kim off, but this has to be said.  Needs to be all out.  “But I just– I’m scared too, Kim.”  God, it feels like her throat is closing, her body’s last stand to convince her to say anything than what she’s about to.  “I never said anything, because I was scared that I wanted you more.”

That gets her attention, gets Kim pushing away and sitting up abruptly.  “What the fuck?” Kim asks, incredulous.

Trini scrambles up to face her, parroting, “What the fuck?” but for, like, _very_ different reasons, Trini’s sure.

“Are you– are you kidding?”  Kim’s wild eyed, red faced.  The dumb hormonal part of Trini’s brain is screaming.  “Like, are you joking right now?”

“Kim, it’s–.”

“I have been _tripping_ over myself at training, Trini, just fucking falling because you switched to leggings.  Fucking _leggings_ , Trini.”  Kim’s chest is heaving, her heart rate picking up, echoing in Trini’s ears.  “I have been so unsubtle that _Jason_ has picked up on it, holy shit.” 

Trini’s on fire– there’s no other explanation for the heat sweeping body.  She’s in hell and burning and that’s the only reason Kim’s saying these things.  Trini must have died, been dropped straight into the pits of hell and this is her torture.

“Trini, I want you so much it _hurts_ to not touch you sometimes,” Kim confesses, lowering her voice.

And this is it, this is the breaking point, the moment when Trini realizes that Kim is too far away, realizes that all she wants to do is touch her too.

There is stillness and then there is motion.

Trini’s not sure which of them moves first, if it’s Kim pitching forward or Trini reaching for her that brings them together, all she knows is that then they’re _there_. 

The moment before they kiss, Kim’s holding Trini’s face between her palms, looking at her all starry eyed and Trini can’t understand why she didn’t do this sooner, at least not right now.  “Are you sure?” Kim breathes, her nose bumping Trini’s.

Trini can’t quite come up with the words to really encompass how sure she is, but knows Kim needs something verbal before she’ll do anything more.  “Please,” Trini whimpers.  “Please just kiss me.” 

Kim tastes like the wine they were drinking earlier, a little bittersweet, but mostly she tastes like Trini remembers, like _Kim_ , and Trini can’t handle it.  She’s intoxicating and Trini’s drunk on how her fingers are twisting in Trini’s hair, in how _soft_ Kim is even with an honest-to-god six pack.  Her hand falls from Kim’s elbow to her waist, presses there and Kim _moans_ and Trini nearly dies on the spot.

Her knees buckle as it is and she falls against Kim, knocks her off balance and landing them in a tangle of legs, dangerously close to the edge of Kim’s bed. 

“You good?” Kim whispers, like if she speaks too loud she breaks the spell.

Trini grins.  “Great, actually.”

They rearrange themselves, heads at the top of the bed and facing each other.  The next kiss is gentler, exploratory.  Trini commits the curve of Kim’s full lower lip to memory, shudders when Kim’s tongue swipes along her lip, pushes herself closer when Kim licks into her mouth.

Their kisses get hotter, wetter, start trailing away from mouths, lips finding soft skin to purple along jawlines and necks, but always finding their way back to each other.  Kim’s hand slips behind Trini’s knee and hitches it up over her hip, pulling them closer and Trini’s going to _die_ , groaning into Kim’s mouth.

She’s only done this three times now, only kissed Kimberly Hart three times and she’s already done for.  God help her.

 

 **.** **. .**

 

Trini wakes up hot, a comforting weight on her chest, holding her down.  Kim’s snoring into the crook of Trini’s neck and, for a second, Trini’s terrified it’s Saturday morning again, that she dreamed it all.  She’s had her fair few of those hyper realistic dreams, always woke up empty and aching.  She doesn’t think she’ll ever be able to look Kim in the eyes again if it’s one of those mornings.

But all the candles and lanterns are still spread out around Kim’s room and, when she shifts, Kim rouses and kisses the soft underside of Trini’s jaw.  “’s early,” she slurs, tightening her arm around Trini’s waist.  “Don’t leave.”

How’s she going to argue with that sort of sound logic?

“Wasn’t going to,” Trini murmurs in response, smiling into the sleepy kiss Kim leans up to give her.

“Good.”  Kim settles back, dozing off quickly.

They’ll need to talk, Trini knows.  A real talk, one that doesn’t turn into making out by candlelight, at least not right away.  And after that, maybe a real date.

But the sun is only barely rising.  They have time.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> also for the sake of clarity bc i couldnt figure out how to shove this detail in but my anxiety wont let it rest: the ship has bathrooms, the team keeps toiletries there, trini brushed her teeth post med-bay before heading back to kim's BYE


End file.
